


It's Getting Old

by BitterEndXII



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Break Up, Domestic Violence, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, First Love, Fist Fights, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, One Shot, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4784903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterEndXII/pseuds/BitterEndXII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank finally takes control, Gerard looses it. (Also on my Mibba)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Getting Old

**Author's Note:**

> More of my depressing scribblings for my peeps - Enjoy! Please leave me a line! <3

“Fuck you!” Gerard yelled at the top of his lungs, clumsily trying to strike at Frank’s bruised cheek again, though it was cautiously missed.

He lurched forward, Frank grabbing his waist and in the process, pushing him harshly away. It wasn’t enough for Gerard’s violent satisfaction though, it never was.

Trying to keep a balance from his endless concoction, he swung his fist once more, thumping Frank callously in the chest, sending the other toppling backwards into the wall.

“Shit” Frank cursed, feebly grasping at the back of his head, where he was sure there would be a wound. Frank stepped forwards, beholding the bitter man that stood before him.

Gerard’s eyes were full of nothing but hate; a dirty scowl that told Frank that everything was after all his fault, Gerard could do no ill. Gerard was perfect and all that Frank had done was damage him. This enraged Frank.

“Gerard, fucking stop!” He hollered, trying to grab at the other’s shoulders with weak hands. Gerard trudged back, scoffing. Frank could feel his gaze crumple into a glare; his finely chewed, short finger nails digging into his worn palms.

Gerard’s acrimonious glance brought itself to Frank’s now trembling hands. “You gunna hit me, Frankie? Are you really going to hit me?” he mouthed incoherently, trying to lean himself casually on the arm of the living room chair but ultimately slipping. He brought it back nicely. Frank spoke through gritted teeth.

“No” was his muster, looking away from the other. Gerard grinned. “Oh, common Frankie! One good hit, get it out of yourself, let yourself go!” he chanted, manoeuvring himself in Frank’s eye line. Frank whispered again

“No”, and with that, he let his eyes slip shut – Letting out a sigh of an old, tired routine. Gerard smirked. “Never could get your own in a fight, could you?

Not with those fuckers that bullied you, not your dad – Not me. You’re fucking weak, Frankie” he spat. Frank felt wave after wave of disgust quench his inhibitions and, just as Gerard alluded, he hastily brought up a confident swing and punched Gerard clean across the jaw with a mighty crack.

“Ah!” Gerard droned, clutching his face. Frank took the opportunity to step forwards as Gerard had reeled back; cocking his head once the other had crumpled beneath him. Neither really ever saw power these days.

Gerard’s stare shot up when he realised the boy looming over him, who then delivered a harsh slap to the cheek Gerard wasn’t protecting. Gerard brought his hands up and grabbed onto Frank’s collar, swinging him into the wall.

There, he pinned back Frank’s shoulders with his forearm and continuously winded the boy; ploughing an unforgiving fist into his already marked gut. Frank groaned out and shoved the boy back after several attempts, eventually resorting to kicking him with a boot clad toe; into the cap of his knee.

“Ngh” Gerard spluttered, staggering away slightly from the boy on what Frank was sure would turn out to be an internal injury.

“Fuck you Gerard!” Frank heaved, finally allowing himself to cry. Gerard’s expression told Frank that he was defeated, but his body language craved more disheartening ultra-violence.

The boy leapt forwards and shoved Frank to the ground, his own form falling carelessly above him. Gerard had the boy pinned now and punched him square in the nose; a fair amount of red covering the pairs clothing as Gerard’s own bloody face had.

“Fuck!” Frank huffed, the ferocity and focus of the impact being almost surprising. He attempted the grab the boy’s flailing arms but only succeeded in undertaking a few good smacks to the other’s jaw. Frank managed a good move though.

On an impulse, he sent an obscenely aimed charge under Gerard’s chin, which caused the boy to topple from his pin on Frank’s lap, landing gracelessly on the ground. Frank immediately recoiled into a ball, knowing that Gerard wouldn’t easily afflict damage this way.

He sat there for a moment, eyes closed, preparing himself for a likely kick to the head. But it never came. Slowly but surely, Frank looked up, seeing Gerard laying on his side, facing away from the other, his knees drawn up to his chest.

Frank gradually uncoiled and leant towards the other, who let out a low wail, clutching at his face. Gerard simply laid there and sobbed, his chest heaving. Frank was too full of pent up rage to give too much sympathy to the other, enough was enough.

“Frankie…” Gerard choked, shuffling himself into a sitting position, looking over longingly at his lover. “Frankie… I’m so s-sorry. Baby, I’m sorry” he rambled, clambering over to the other boy. Frank chose not to look at him.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I don’t m-mean to get so an-… angry… I didn’t mean t’…” he talked, simply trying to get Frank to look at him. Frank did not.

The pair had been together for almost ten years. The first few had been a wondrous, lustful and ultimately loving experience; they simply couldn’t get enough of each other.

Then it came to their one fight a year, and then once a month, then a week, and finally, where they were now, every couple of days. It had only in the past year escalated to such brutal violence.

They had met as a result of Gerard’s drifting nature. Frank had noticed him in and bout of various bars in the area and when he had asked, Gerard said he was borderline homeless, merely squatting both at friend’s apartments and in illegal dens.

Frank had taken him under his wing, mystified by the innocent nature of the other boy, despite his less than blameless lifestyle. Gerard had moved in rather abruptly, earning his keep simply by offering Frank sex.

But after a time, the sex became so much more, it had become love making, and the pair decided to make an official statement of romance.

Both boys had only been eighteen at the time. But they were older now, wiser, more aware of what does and doesn’t make a functional relationship.

In the past, it had nothing to do with form or function – It merely, was. Now though, they had bills to pay, jobs to keep, and expectations of the world that they were forced to meet. And so, they basically didn’t work anymore. Neither had admitted it, though it was an unspoken knowing between them.

“Frankie…” Gerard murmured, placing a hand on Frank’s knee. Frank looked down at it with a solemn expression and shoved it away, assuming a more relaxed stance with his legs outstretched.

“Don’t” he hissed, glaring at the boy. Gerard let out a shaky breathe, trying to place his hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Frankie… I’ll…” he paused, moving even closer to Frank, draping his arm carefully around the boy’s waist.

“Let’s g-go upstairs baby… Let’s, let’s forget about all this…” he whispered, nudging the side of Frank’s face with his own. It was the same story, Frank knew. Frank shook his head.

“Please, baby… Common, w-we can just, I’ll do whatever you want… Whatever you need…” Gerard pressed, bringing his other hand to lightly squeeze Frank’s crotch. Frank sighed, shutting his eyes. Gerard knew what to do.

Sluggishly, Gerard sat himself in-between Frank’s legs and began to tug away at the boy’s jeans. Frank rocked his head to the side and let out a content breath. He was in no mood, but he knew Gerard needed to do this to rid himself of his guilt.

Before he could think further, he felt a pair of warm lips trace the top of his flaccid cock. “Mm” Frank mouthed, feeling himself growing. “You l-like that, don’t you?” Gerard hummed, his upset still making his voice crack somewhat.

Frank was sure the other was smiling, though he didn’t open his eyes to see, he knew it would be too heartbreakingly warming to witness. “Mm” Frank simply sounded again, gripping onto the carpet beneath them.

With Frank now hard to his liking, Gerard took no time in deep throating the boy, as it was exactly what Frank liked. “Ah” Frank murmured. Gerard’s head bobbed up and down at a rapid rate, expertly so.

“Baby… shit” Frank continued. The motions stopped for a moment. “S-say my name… Frankie” Gerard whispered, pulling somewhat at the base of Frank’s cock as he spoke.

Frank merely gulped, unable to bring himself to comply with Gerard’s request. He heard the boy let out another pained sob, before the sensation started again.

Frank’s mind flashed back to a time when such an act was enjoyable for both of them, when it had been a loving, beautiful act, not a sloppy apology for a disgusting display of aggression.

Frank would never hold the fights they had against Gerard though, they were equally responsible for winding each other up and they always both contributed to any physical violence.

Suddenly, Frank shifted and felt the familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach, releasing into Gerard’s mouth, who, as per usual, swallowed the fluid. When Frank felt the boy do up his trousers once more, he was able to open his eyes.

Gerard’s face was a forced warmth; he still looked mortified, the blood that stained him didn’t help matters. His eyes were still watery. Frank felt his own tears fall down his face.

“Don’t c-cry Frankie… Shh, it’s okay” Gerard tried to coo, gently stroking away the tears. Frank turned his head away, indicating Gerard to climb off him. He did, and murmured “I love you”, before slumping on the ground next to Frank. Frank rolled his eyes.

“Where did you get that line from?” he said quietly, shakily. Gerard breathed and nodded to himself, knowing the other didn’t love him back, not anymore. “I’ll always love y-you baby… You’re so perfect-t” he offered, imagining in his mind Frank saying the same to him, as he had pretended for the last few years.

Frank remained quiet, simply standing up from the ground. “Where y’ going?” Gerard mumbled, getting up, swaying slightly. Frank looked at his lover directly in the eye, before drawing him into a very tight hug. Gerard could feel the boy’s tears through his shirt, and he was sure that Frank would be able to feel his likewise.

“I’m going” Frank spoke. His voice was confident, without a hint of doubt; a voice Gerard had never heard. Gerard gulped. “W-what?” he said, clutching onto the boy’s shirt as he pulled away.

“I’m done, Gerard. I’m fucking done” the boy spoke, pushing Gerard back gently, heading for the door, grasping his car keys from the coffee table as he walked. “What-t? No, n-no…” Gerard mumbled, grabbing onto Frank’s clothing again.

“What do you mean, Frankie-e?” he said hoarsely. Of course he knew what Frank was going to say, but he needed the other around, for as long as possible. Frank was aware of this reasoning just from the expression on Gerard’s face.

“I’m done here, Gerard. Why the fuck should I have to live like this? What did I ever do to deserve this, huh? I’ve wasted ten years of my life now Gerard, why can’t you just be satisfied? I’ve given you ten years” he said, almost in a monotone. Gerard shifted.

“B-but… baby-y” he mustered. “I’ll b-be okay, it’ll… we’ll work it out, baby” Gerard was becoming hysterical. Despite everything that had happened, Frank had not once walked out nor threatened to leave, so Gerard had no reason to believe this wasn’t the real thing. His lack of response was due to a stomach churning, sick feeling of shock.

“No, we won’t, please” Frank nudged the other out of the way. Gerard snapped, grabbing the boy’s hair and pulling him back towards the living room. “Ah! Gerard! Get the fuck off me! There’s nothing you can do, it’s done!” He yelped, grappling to get the other’s hand from his scalp.

“N-no… Frankie!” Gerard yelled, shoving Frank back into the living room, having to steady himself on the wall to prevent himself from falling. Gerard descended into Frank's arms.

“Frankie! Don’t go… It’ll, it’ll be okay, yeah? I’ll get b-better; I’ll get off everything-g… All of it, I don’t need it! I’ll, I’ll get a job again, we’ll g-get a bigger house… I know you always said you wanted o-one in the country, we’ll m-move there…” Gerard was full out sobbing at that point, clinging onto Frank’s shirt with all of his weak energy.

Frank looked away from his lover dully, without saying a word. “Frankie… I need you, I, I n-need you…” he cried, beginning to thump his head to Frank’s chest. Frank let out a sigh and backed away from the other, holding him in place by clutching his hands.

“I don’t need you” he muttered, glancing at Gerard’s broken face. “I don’t love you, either. This is a waste of time” was his conclusion, pushing the other aside with a light tap and hastily leaving the room.

Gerard could only stand there and watch as his saviour wandered so easily out of his life. They had slipped away from each other there was no doubt, but Gerard never imagined a day would come when it was well and truly over. He knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop the other now, as Frank had said, it was done.

“I l-love you” Gerard choked out as he heard the front door open behind him. There was a pause. “I know” was the last thing Gerard would ever hear from Frank.

He slumped on the ground and brought his knees up to his chest, contemplating every last lonely implication of what had just happened. It was finished. Gerard felt as though he was finished.

His mind flashed back to every wonderful and awful memory they had created. They by far hadn’t taken each other’s kiss but Frank had been Gerard’s first lay, and it had been in the back of Frank’s car on a winter evening.

It was rushed and messy but plainly beautiful, and to date Frank was still the only one Gerard had slept with. He recalled the first time he’d cracked Frank in the face, the first time he’d spat on the other too.

He also remembered when they’d been sat in a bar outside of town, and Frank had cautiously placed his hand over Gerard’s; that was the first time they’d met.

Gerard felt a final tear roll down his face before he was unable to cry anymore. He let out a cough, deciding what it was that he was going to do.

He stood up, and just as absently walked up the stairs. They creaked softly, in an almost inaudible sound, one he’d never noticed before. The walls just echoed a one phrase now: alone.

Gerard considered the idea of being too hastily with his overwhelming unhappiness, but Frank was all he knew, he knew nothing now.

Gerard paced into the bathroom and looked over his gaunt figure in the mirror briefly, deciding there was no sense in his expression anymore.

He opened the cabinet before him and pulled out the only thing that had given me a vague hint of sanity the past few months: a small, un-prescribed tub of valium. Gerard stared down at it for what felt like hours; this was it, as Frank has said, it was finished.

He leant down and reached behind a stack of towels on the floor; locating a bottle of rum he knew was there – His not-so-secret stash.

Sandwiching the bottle under him arm, Gerard opened the lid of the tub with its fractional click, pouring out a handful of the pills into his palm. This is it; he told himself over and over again, the plunge, the curtain, what was to be his end.

He couldn’t even get himself to feel sad anymore, it was simple numbness. Without another seed of doubt, Gerard swallowed as many of the tablets as he could, drowning them with alcohol. He repeated the process. And again. He quickly forged a note.

With everything gone, Gerard found he was overcome with odd feeling, sitting simply on the floor. Gerard felt a hesitant drowsiness fall over him and he closed his eyes for a while, breathing in slowly; it would be over soon – He told himself.

An hour passed and Gerard still appeared unaffected, though to him no time had passed at all; he was deep in thought.

Every fuck up and every mess he’d ever created with the only man who had ever loved him, every fight – Every everything.

Something good struck him though. He remembered the pair’s first day at university, as by a chance they’d been able to go together despite the fact they’d only been seeing each other a matter of months.

It was oddly warm for a September and they’d been laid on the grass by one of the campuses many lakes, contemplating – Merely talking.

Frank had told Gerard some joke and the pair had laughed out loud. And now, with Gerard beginning to tremble, he found himself right there, on the floor, laughing with equal hysteria at the joke Frank had told.

He couldn’t even remember the words exactly as they’d been said, but he remembered to warmth of the whole thing. He was smiling. He was able to smile.

Then it hit Gerard like a tonne of bricks – He was also going to die soon.

“N-no...” he mumbled to himself, shuffling up to the toilet. Suddenly, sharp pains drew themselves around Gerard’s stomach; blistering, bleeding. “Ah!” Gerard hollered, tears falling down his face from the sheer agony alone.

“No, no, no!” He mouthed, throwing himself over the bowl and aiming his fingers down his throat, trying desperately to get himself to throw up.

It was no use; boiling, stinging agony pushed through Gerard’s veins and he collapsed on the ground. “No! Ah!” He screamed. “Frankie! Help me!” No use, none of it was any use.

He tried to make himself throw up again but the world around him became a harshly distorted blur. “Mm…” he sounded, trying to scream, trying to alert someone, trying to tell somebody how stupid he had been.

By that point, he had managed to throw up, but he knew it was too late and within the hour, Gerard had died.

Frank had been escorted into the flat a week later by a police officer, telling him that he was allowed at last to collect his things.

The other had waited outside whilst Frank scoped the place. It was exactly as he had left it that day, only tape now boarded up the tiny upstairs bathroom, as a cause of death had not yet been determined; though Frank knew it was suicide.

He made an odd decision at that point, telling the police officer leaning against the front gate that he wanted to move back in, when the enquiry was completed.

The burly man had been somewhat dumbfounded, but regardless had gone along with Frank’s request, telling him a notification would be sent when permission could be given.

Frank had sighed and looked back over the house as they walked to the car. The duck-egg blue paint around the windows that had once looked so warm and inviting now to Frank seemed significantly blander – Worn out.

He was bundled back into the police car and driven back to his temporary accommodation.

Frank begun to cry.

The man before him didn’t spare him a glance but it was all in the consideration of Frank’s guilt, a kind like gesture. Frank pulled a locket from his pocket and stared longing over it; a gift Gerard had bought them on their fifth anniversary.

The house was all he had left.


End file.
